Emcee

On the stage of the old theatre’s marquee,
the emcee steps forward, microphone in hand,
a grin as bright as the footlights’ gleam,
ready to weave the night’s commandeered plan.

With a cadence that rides the pulse of the crowd,
he calls each act, a warm‑hearted guide,
turning whispers into laughter loud,
and shepherding talent far and wide.

His words, like tea poured slow from a silver pot,
stir anticipation, smooth and true;
he bridges the gap, ties the plot,
making strangers feel they all knew.

When the final curtain falls and applause swells,
the emcee bows, his duty done,
yet the echo of his voice still dwells
in the hushed reverence of the night’s begun.

So here’s to the master of ceremonies’ art,
the unseen thread that pulls the show’s heart—
British spelling, British charm,
in every cheer, in every warm.